Twelve Words, Tales and Perspectives of the Fellowship
by Idhren HamLock
Summary: Each person in the fellowship has their own story to tell. For this story... drabble... thing, I generated 12 random words per character and did a short one-shot on/using each word. All twelve one-shots combine to tell the story of that character and their role in the war of the ring, from their perspective.
1. Pippin's POV

**Title:** Twelve word prompt perspectives

 **Summary:** Each person in the fellowship has their own story to tell. For this story... drabble... thing, I generated 12 random words per character and did a short one-shot on each word, using the one-shots to tell the whole story of Lord of The Rings from start to finish.

 **Rating:** K+, just to be safe.

 **Characters:** The entire fellowship, plus most of the other characters they meet.

 **Author:** Idhren

 **Disclaimer:** If I owned Lord of The Rings I would write stories like this full-time, not just for fun and procrastination. I don't though, enough said.

 **Reviews:** Please read and review, constructive criticism welcome.

 **Author's notes:** I try to stick to book verse here, but may mess stuff up and include movie stuff. It's all one story to me anyways. Each character has their own chapter, but I can't say what order they will be in, I generate the words first, and then see who they suit.

 **Ch. 1 Pippin's POV**

 **Autopilot**

Would we never stop? We have been walking for most of the day, with but one short stop! We even ATE on the road. I'm pretty sure that's not healthy. Why is Strider making us go so fast? We have run out of things to say, and now walk in silence. I can feel myself going on autopilot, my body placing one foot in front of another while I space out. I've never done so much walking in one day in my life.

 **Mighty**

I huddle up to the other hobbits, sword extended. I don't even know how to hold this thing, let alone use it against creatures like the nazgul! I'm just a hobbit! I haven't trained in fighting, I've never fought before! I'm not ready to die, not really. But I will to protect Frodo, even if I have to chance against such a mighty foe. Our only hope now that they draw even closer is in Strider, and he went scouting. The nazgul pushes me aside without a second thought, and I can do nothing to stop it. Great. These thing have an aura of fear, and I can't even find it in me to get up. What now?

 **Evidence**

Frodo's been hurt, and we are now going even harder, faster, and longer than before. I think my feet are ready to fall off. Frodo gets to ride Bill, while we carry more baggage, but he looks so terrible there is no envy in my mind at all. I don't understand, he only got hit in the shoulder, why is this happening? Strider won't say. He did say that we will come to a bridge soon, and it might be held by the enemy, and we could be ambushed. I know I should be scared but I honestly think I'm going numb to all this. It's just too foreign, too completely outside of anything I've ever experienced.

Now we have reached the bridge. But we can't cross yet, or we shouldn't though we may have to if things yet worse with Frodo. First we need some evidence that we are not walking into a trap. Strider sees something on the bridge, a blue gemstone. A beryl he says, a sign of a friend. Now we cross and continue our mad pace to Rivendell.

 **Poisonous**

We have now met a mighty elf-lord. And finally I get the answers I've been asking for. I'm not sure if I would rather not have known. From what I can understand, the blade that pierced Frodo was poisoned. That's why he is so sick and hurt even though it was only his shoulder. The worst part is though, what this poisonish-thing is doing to Frodo. Slowly, but not slowly enough, it is turning Frodo into a wraith. I don't want to think it, but I can't help myself, and I wonder, what will happen if… well if worst comes to worst... will Strider… take **it**? If Frodo couldn't keep **it**? Would we? And if worst comes to worst, and Frodo turns into a wraith, and is dangerous and all… will Strider end it, and take a sword to Frodo's throat?

 **Ideal**

Rivendell is beautiful, peaceful yet joyful, and an ideal place for Frodo to recover. It seems like it's also an ideal meeting point and conversion point for all sorts of different people. I keep meeting all sorts of folk in the hallways and the in the Hall of Fire.

 **Hide**

I know we shouldn't, but I really need to know what is happening in that council. I've always been far too curious for my own good. Merry agreed to go secretly too, but his reason is more to do with knowing how to protect Frodo and all. Though I think he's curious as well. We found a perfect spot to hide, right behind the pillars. Now we just need to wait for the council to start.

 **Bridge**

To the bridge of Khazad Dum! I follow them blindly. Apparently we are going to this bridge I've never heard of, that has the word doom in it. It doesn't mean much that I have lived my life ignorant of it's existence. I am a more educated hobbit than most, and I know my letters and all, but it is turning out that I don't know very much at all. I touch things I shouldn't, and am always getting into trouble. I started this, by pushing the skeleton in.

We reach the bridge. And I see something else I've never heard of, never dreamed of. A Balrog. And suddenly, Gandalf looks tiny. He's always big to me, scolding me for stuff, saying Fool of a Took. It never occurred to me that anything had the power to defeat him. Well I was wrong. And his death was my fault, because my curiosity got the better of me, like it always does. If I hadn't been here… if I hadn't been here Gandalf would still be alive. I don't think I've ever hated myself more than I do right now.

 **Habitual**

Merry notices my somber mood. He always notices when something is up, and as always he pries it out of me and talks some sense into me. He always has, and always does. It's habitual.

One thing I've learnt from Gandalf's death is this though; even the most normal, and constant of thing are not always permanent. Things you would never have thought could change, do. Maybe I'll be the one looking after Merry one day, but I hope not. He's the strong one. And I don't want anything to happen to him. But if it did, well, I'd be there. I'll always be there.

I hope.

 **Delight**

Treebeard was taking us to see the White Wizard! Saruman! He had said he was on no one's "side" but clearly he was either lying, or plain oblivious. Either way, Merry and I needed to find a way out of this situation as soon as possible. Sadly Treebeard still had us in his iron grip and so no amount of struggling helped. Soon I could see a white glow from the trees, as a figure walked into the open. I braced myself for something terrible, who know what Saruman would do to us! But as we struggled even more frantically to free ourselves, while knowing that the inevitable confrontation was almost at hand, the figure was made clear.

"Gandalf?" I cried. Could it really be? How? He died, I saw it, he must have!

"I suppose so." He said, seeming rather confused. Maybe he had forgotten, for some reason? But I knew it was indeed Gandalf, and was beyond pleased. I was delighted. Gandalf was back!

 **Orthodox**

Isengard was destroyed, and now a group of lord and such, with Gandalf, of course, had arrived. We waded through water to talk with Saruman, but things did not go according to plan. Well, their plan. I was left out of any plan-making. When Saruman died I noticed something roll into the water. None of the others seemed to notice it, and so I took it upon myself to see what it was, and find it. No, it was not simple curiosity that made me seek it, though that was there too. I found it, a round orb that I had seen earlier in his hands, and I knew it was something important. Yet when Gandalf saw it in my hands he immediately grabbed it, like I was a child holding something I was forbidden to touch. No thanks did I receive, nor praise, nor was I even allowed to see it, learn about it, or hold it for a few more seconds! Was it really that unorthodox for a mere halfling to partake in matters of some importance, or does he simply not trust me?

 **Bold**

If you asked some other hobbits if they thought I was brave, or bold, they might say yes. But if you asked men, elves, or dwarves, about hobbits, bold or brave would probably not be one of the words. Among ourselves we are not shy, but we do not do great deeds and such. Now I am in Gondor, alone, without even Merry to offer help. Gandalf is who knows where, probably in the thick of this battle, and now I must try and save a life. Alone. I had been bold like this before, when I lit the beacon. But Gandalf told me to. I could do nothing alone, but maybe I could get someone else to save him. I told the guards not to hurry, to do anything to slow this down, and told my friend Beregond. Then I went to get Gandalf. I didn't hesitate, I threw myself through the battle to find him. I was brave, I was bold.

 **Base**

There has been so much death. So much pain. All this war, and at the root of it, the base of all our troubles, all the servants of evil everything, was the ring. The little trinket that was entrusted to Frodo. It's gone now, and things are… well things aren't any more normal than before. I'm… a squire of Gondor. And Merry, who until recently was in the houses of healing, a squire of Rohan. Frodo and Sam dwell there still. Nothing will ever be able to fix this. This death, this destruction. I'm not the only person who's world has been turned upside down. We will forever mourn those we have lost, on every step of this journey. I mourn too, the parts of myself I lost on the strange path I have followed, that I have made. I am not the same person I used to be. Better in some ways, others… I'm not sure. I have never forgotten the words he said, though he is long gone, and now I see the utter truth in them. It is a strange fate we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing. And so much pain, and so much loss. So much.

 **Next chapter: Frodo. Please leave a review, even if it's short.**


	2. Frodo's POV

**Author's notes:** Sorry that this chapter took so long. I find it rather hard to get inside Frodo's head, and he was never my favorite character. This is mostly book-verse, mostly because Frodo is a bit less wimpy in the books. I looked it up; he falls down 39 times in the entire trilogy! That aside, if you have only seen the movies that's fine, but don't be surprised if there are a few minor differences. I apologize for mixing up book-verse and movie-verse so much, (I even used them both in the same word drabble, side by side) they are both part of the same world to me. Please review, constructive criticism much appreciated.

 **Chapter 2. Frodo's POV**

 **Fever**

The worst I've ever been ill in my life was a particularly fever I encountered during the time I stayed in Brandybuck hall. It was awful, I was in bed for almost a week, and felt terrible. This is something else altogether. My shoulder feels at the same time ice cold and burning hot. I have been pierced by a Morgul blade, Strider says. I wonder what that means, but I'm sure it's nothing even remotely good.

 **Deceit**

Well it seems I was deceived. They told me that my wound was serious, and poisoned and all and that was why it was so awful, but only now, when the danger has passed, do I learn I was in danger of passing into the shadow world. I knew my life was in peril, but to be a ringwraith… that is a fate worse than death. I see why they didn't tell me, but I still wish they did. Poor Pippin, he has such an active mind, I can just see him contemplating all sorts of awful scenarios… I'd better make sure he's alright. Now, if only I wasn't so damned weak and could get up!

 **Avenging**

I will avenge him. I will avenge his death. I will cast the ring into the chasm from whence it came, and destroy all evil forever. I will. But I must do it without his help now. I must for he is gone, gone where I cannot, and will not yet go, gone where he cannot return. Oh Gandalf, how I wish I could have done more to save you. They would not let me, Boromir held me back, he had to or I would have ran right up to you, and could have endangered myself and our fellowship further. I know, Boromir's actions were probably sensible. But it hurt so much to see you fall Gandalf, how I wish I could have done something. So far on this quest all I seem to be doing is relying on others. It seems like all I can do is fall, both figuratively and literally. All I seem to be is a burden. They do not realise, but it was me who caused Gandalf's death. For who was it but I who made the choice to go into that cave, that tomb? I am smart, at least for a hobbit, and well-educated, both of my small hobbit world, and, to some extent the outside world, but I could not see. I thought him the least likely to fall out of all of us, honestly. So now we are without our wizard. And I am without my friend and mentor. Oh Gandalf, would that you have lived!

 **General**

An elf meets us in Lothlorien. Haldir is his name, and no one will tell me who he is exactly. Or more like, I don't understand. Matchwarden is what they say. So what in the world does that mean? Obviously he's important, but how so? How should I address him if I have to speak? I think Strider is using the familiar Sindarin "you" with him, but they seem like old friends and besides, they're speaking _way_ too fast for my limited knowledge of Sindarin.

Pippin, always the curious one, just _has_ to ask now doesn't he? And why does he assume _I_ know? "Haldir is a… sort of general." I say to him. "Like, commanding forces and whatnot."

It could be true, and honestly, he trusts me so much to know the answer, I have to say something.

 **Deer**

Lothlorien is the most tranquil place I have ever been in. Rivendell was nice, but full of travellers and people coming and going, the shire is peaceful, but full of chatter and noise, Lothlorien just feels so _still._ I can't make up my mind as to whether it helps the ache I feel with the absence of Gandalf, through the forest's sense of timelessness, or makes the ache even more pronounced. I am walking through the woods now. I see no one, but I am not naive enough to believe I am alone. Not truly. There is always someone near, whether elf of member of the fellowship, and they believe I do not know. I know they do it for my protection and safety though. Or more like, they follow me for the safety of the item I carry, not me. The other hobbits aren't guarded. But I pretend not to notice.

A deer comes. In the safety of Lothlorien she can wander unguarded, as none here would harm her. It came as a surprise to many of the fellowship that the galadhremmin were vegetarian, but I can see how elves would be loath to harm fellow creatures of the woods. To my surprise the deer comes right up to me, and I see that she is only slightly taller than me. This must be a young deer. And it seems to be the only thing in this fair land that doesn't treat me like I'm about to fall apart. It's strange, I was chosen for the task I have because of my strength, mental more so than physical, but no one seems to consider that. They only see what they expect.

 **Grand**

How would I describe the Argonaths to one who had never seen them? Or what about Rivendell or Lothlorien? Assuming I get back (which, I'm not) I can assume I'm going to be doing quite some story telling. And that brings me back to this, how to tell one who has never seen the wonders I have, or the horrors, what they were like? We saw the Argonaths this morning, great tall statues of men, Aragorn's forefathers he said. They were taller than I had imagined any non-natural thing could be, and seemed to be carved from the rock face itself. The only word that comes to mind to describe them, truly, is grand. So you'll have to use your imagination, as they were much more than that.

 **Curiosities**

We've finished with the boat, Sam and I. Sam's grateful for that, he never liked it, and it was rather hard to row just the two of us when before the big people did most of the rowing, so I guess that's a good thing. But now we have to go on foot, which is so much slower. It's a good thing I studied the maps at Rivendell, so I know about where we're going, but we've still managed to get sidetracked in this mess of a forest way too many times. We've found quite a few curiosities though. Or at least Sam has. Sam can turn the most ordinary things into something extraordinary, and he keeps collecting little "souvenirs" as he calls them. His bag is already so full that it seems utterly foolish to attach more little things to it, but he says he doesn't mind. I can't quite decide if this is endearing or simply stupid, but I don't begrudge him what small pleasure he can find in this godforsaken land.

 **Distinct**

One of the things I love the most about nature is its _diversity._ I used to marvel at the way one tree or flower would be completely different from another of the same species. Right now Sam and I are outside, which is nature I guess, but not as in birds, flowers and forests. All we can see is rocks, rocks and more rocks. Every morning we wake up, eat breakfast, and continue on our way, but it feels like we are always walking through the same rocks, simply rearranged in slightly different ways. There's nothing distinct, nothing to tell one hour from the next. Sam is quite sure we're going in circles, and honestly, I agree. How in the world are we going to get out of this mess? This isn't how I thought things would go at all. Imagine, the quest failing because we simply got lost! What an end that would be… lost in this sea of rock.

 **Fierce**

I'm ashamed to say, before this quest I thought Sam was quite… simple. Not unintelligent exactly, just rather predictable. He was a friend of mine, sure. He was as interested as I was in Bilbo's stories, especially of tales with elves. But always quite a gentle hobbit. This quest has taught me lots about Samwise Gamgee. I jested once, back before the fellowship even, I believe, when we were on our way to Rivendell with Strider. I forget what exactly Sam had been doing, singing a funny song I think, and I said something along the lignes of; I wonder what we'll discover about Samwise next. Perhaps he will turn out to be a jester, or even a warrior!" We all laughed at the thought of dear gentle Sam as a warrior, and Sam himself declared that nigh on impossible, but now I am seeing another side to Sam. Gollum came upon us tonight, and we were ready for him. We pretended to sleep, but secretly we lay awake, waiting for his approach. I thought this strategy of mine close to foolproof, but I greatly underestimated Gollum's strength and focus on getting his "precious" back. This is where the hidden elf-warrior in Sam comes to play, for as the creature Gollum overthrew me and we grappled for the ring, Samwise the gardener almost full on attacked the creature. He looked… fierce actually. Like a fighter. And while he has many virtues, I did not count on that. I have a feeling that, out of all those on this quest Sam might indeed prove to be the most useful, the most valuable, of all. Who would have thought it.

 **Worm**

Oh how am I ever going to get out of this!? That treacherous snake! That worm! The foul beast! To think that I trusted Gollum to lead us by a safe enough route! I know Sam always mistrusted him, hated him even, but to (almost) quote Sam; I wanted to believe that there was some good in him, and that it was worth fighting for. I am enmeshed in spider web, I have dropped my sword, and no help is coming, not even Sam. I have committed the worst mistake one can make, in mistrusting and sending away a loyal friend. I can only plead that it was Smeag- no, Gollum's, treacherous words and the ring that lead me astray.

 **Weapon**

Use it as a weapon he said. Give it to Gondor he said. Boromir was not stupid but he knew nothing of the ring. I didn't either at the time, despite having carried it thus far. Now I know. It is only now after all we've been through that I realise something. This ring is a weapon, but not in the way we once thought. It contains no ounce of good, of usefulness. We cannot use it, save to destroy it. Somehow though, we got lucky. Sauron made a mistake in tying his life force to the ring, and in the end this was his downfall. Maybe, without knowing it, Boromir was right in some small way. We did use the ring to destroy Sauron- sort of. I hope the others life free and well. I hope Aragorn becomes king, and Merry and Pippin return to the shire, and middle earth is at peace. Even though it is over for me and Sam, I hope the others are still alright.

 **Cuddle**

Our return to Rivendell was a bittersweet one. So much had changed since we last came to the elven city. The four hobbits and I, along with Gandalf came upon the last homely house at sunset yesterday and were greeted most warmly by Lord Elrond, Glorfindel and his Elrond's chief counselor Erestor. The best part about coming back was seeing Bilbo once more. It was rather strange, as he knew little about any of the troubles we had gone through, and places we had been. He didn't treat me like a piece of glass, about to break. He loves me, and has always loved me for who I am, not what I have done. All the commotion in Gondor just made me uncomfortable, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that they thought I was more than I actually was. Everyone seems to forget that I gave in, right when it counted. I failed, and it was pure chance Gollum and the ring fell into the fires. Bilbo didn't know any of that, yet. He treated me just as he always had. I pressed up to him that night, when I got tired, just like I had always done when I was younger. It was a silent plea to be held, to cuddle. I felt I deserved a moment to be a child again. And despite his age Bilbo's arms were as strong and steady as they had always been, a safe haven, protecting me from the outside world. I cuddled with him and his familiar scent and strong arms gave a wordless promise that everything was alright.

 **Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, even if it's only a few words saying "This story was fairly good" or something of the sort. Constructive criticism much appreciated.**

 **Next chapter: Boromir**


	3. Boromir's POV

**I finally managed to finish this chapter! This chapter only has only 6 words instead of 12, for Boromir who only managed to make it through a third of the story. I apologise for any mistakes there may be as this story has not been beta'd.**

Boromir

 **Messenger**

Many humans know little about the Valar, and do not truly believe in them. The Valar are the gods of the elves, of which they have seen, and we, the secondborn, have not. I do believe in them, mostly, and know much of them. It comes of being upper class, our education is greater than most and the Lord Denethor, my father, would spare no expense in the matter of giving Faramir and I an education, and so learn we did, about the Valar and every other subject imaginable. Faramir thrived on this, I simply couldn't care enough to remember all those facts. It's not that I'm stupid, or lazy, I'm just not a scholar nor do I wish to be. I remember thinking that from the little I know of elves they would not believe so completely in imagined gods. Combined with the fact that they live so many years, and that some of their fathers and grandfathers may even have been to the blessed lands their kind claim to have once traveled to, the Valar seem to be real enough, though we see them not. Some do say that they commune with us, in dreams and messages, but that I scorned in disbelief. "Why would the mighty gods talk to us? They have long distanced themselves from our world, and in all my travels I have never yet met someone of any credibility who has claimed to have talked to the Valar. If some wish to believe their drunken imaginings and remembered dreams are messages then they may do so by all means. But I for one will not listen to them." Said I.

I am thinking though, that I may have been hasty in this judgement, for while I still believe that most who claim to have heard a prophecy of some sort lie or are mislead I no longer believe that it is utterly impossible. This past week has been an eventful one, not least because of a strange recurring dream of Faramir's. This dream cannot be anything but a prophecy, it came again and again, and each time he heard the same verse in his head.

At first I was sceptical, but only last night I too had the same dream with the voice that told a riddle.

Seek for the sword that was broken

In Imladris it dwells

There shall be councils taken

Stronger than Morgul spells

There shall be shown a token

That doom is near at hand

Isildurs bane has awoken

A halfling forth shall stand

Faramir could not make sense of this anymore than I could, but we know that Imladris is the elven name of Rivendell, the elven stronghold of Lord Elrond. So Faramir begged our father to allow him to go there and seek the answer to the riddle. But father believed him not, until I had the same dream and asked the same of him.

So now I will leave for Rivendell at dawn tomorrow to seek for the answer to a riddle.

I still haven't made up my mind about the Valar, but perhaps they are real, and the dream is from them. Perhaps I will be a messenger or a vessel for a message from the Valar.

And that is a comforting thought.

 **Aquamarine**

The citadel of Minas Tirith is large and beautiful, with grand halls of stone and large marble statues. Rivendell is an entirely different matter. Where Minas Tirith is noble, stately and white Rivendell is multicoloured and cheerful, it is no smaller yet I must admit that it has a more welcoming feel. If I had to pick fault with anything here it might be the colours. The room in which I am staying is not painted white, brown, beige or anything even remotely sensible like that. No, it is aquamarine. A fine colour for a guest room indeed!

Later Lord Elrond contacts me.

"I am sorry" he says "for the colour of your room. Some of the elves here have a tendency to play rather silly pranks."

So, I realise, it was not bad taste at all but simply an elfling prank.

"That is alright my Lord Elrond." I say. "Surely the children of the elves are no less mischievous than any other children. I do not mind."

Lord Elrond just sighs.

"It amazes me sometimes." Says Elrond "How an elfling can also be a reborn elf lord from the first age."

 **Rival**

It is true that he _could_ be a friend, maybe. And an ally for my people, or _our_ people, if he is to be believed. But that is not what I see in this ranger. Until he proves himself worthy of the crown of Gondor, and shows his proofs beyond all doubt than he remains a rival, a threat to the security and unity of my country. It is not that I do not want a king. My father would oppose any threat to his rule over Gondor, but not I. What I want is someone who understands the needs of Gondor and her people, who can govern fairly, someone who is worthy of command. As of yet, none of these things are proven in the ranger. He is a foreigner who has lived much of his life in the wild. What does he know of my country or its ways? Maybe later he will prove himself. For now, I will wait and see.

 **Frigid**

If ever I thought I knew the cold, I was wrong. I could see from the start that taking the path over Caradhras was a mistake and indeed I was right. If I am this cold I can only imagine what the poor hobbits are feeling; being half my size they can barely push their way through the snow. Soon we must stop, the blizzard prevents us from making much of a headway and we are all chilled to the bone. I'm glad I insisted we bring the blocks of wood, despite the extra and bulky weight. I settle in and prepare for the coldest night of my life.

 **Compulsive**

I could do good if only I had the ring! If only the hobbit wasn't so foolish then my country could be saved. I cannot believe I am thwarted in this by but one small being, the very one I am sworn to protect. But what is more important, the safety and wellbeing of one hobbit, or of a country, or of the world? It is an easy decision, and I reach for the ring. The desire to take it is compulsive, I must have it, I must, I MUST. IT IS MINE, RIGHTFULLY MINE. I WILL TAKE IT AND THE WORLD WILL BE UNDER MY COMMAND. I WILL USE IT FOR GOOD AND ALL SHALL BE WELL IN THE WORLD UNDER MY RULE. MY RING MINE MINE MI-

Oh. Oh no, no no nonononono. What did I do?

 **Noble**

I understand now, why the ring could never be used for good. But alas for Boromir son of Denethor, the knowledge has come too late. Never again will I gaze of the fair towers of Gondor, or enter again into my country. It is too late for me, I know it in my heart. How could I return now, after what I've done? I must though, for I promised my brother.

The uruk-hai are upon me now, and I scarcely feel like raising my sword or shield. Then I see the hobbits, Merry and Pippin, bravely luring the uruks, taunting and throwing stones. They are my friends. And for all I have taught them, surely they cannot stand against the might of Saruman's army. I roar, and charge before them. May these uruks rue the day they raised their blades against a warrior of Gondor! May they rue the days they ever tried to hurt my friends. And may I find some small measure of redemption in this deed. I blow my horn, and attack!

It comes out of nowhere, a black shaft hurtling through the air. And after all the arrows that have hit my shield, gone astray or been deflected in my life, this one does not.

I know I am done for the moment it hits me, but why let a little thing like death stop me? In some ways it is only fitting I die, and so I will die with as much glory as is left in me. I blow my horn again and again, for surely the others are somewhere near?

The second arrow comes. But as I sink to my knees I see Merry and Pippin. All hope has left their eyes, their little swords at their sides. And the uruks keep coming.

I do not know how I do it, but I get up again. Maybe if I kill a few more they will be saved. It is too late for me, but if I can hold out until the others arrive they might yet live. The third arrow is too much, and I can only watch helplessly as the hobbits are taken away by the uruks, fighting and screaming. Maybe I was noble, maybe I did good in the end, but to the end I failed. Failed my country, my brother, my friends.

… **And wasn't that uplifting. Anyways, that's all for poor Boromir, next up; Gimli.**

 **Pretty please leave a review, it would mean so much to me. Thanks!**


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